I suspect that I’m one of those really, really lucky women who is very loved by her husband, and knows it.

The other day, I sent a message through MSN to my spouse, saying…”Don’t fuss about valentines day”. To which I received the stunned response of, “ummmmmm?”. This small exchange sparked a discussion over whether or not Valentines Day is important to me.

When I consider all the things, large and small, that he does through the year and over the years that we have passed through…Valentines Day seems pretty insignificant. Not to mention that any guy would be tickled pink to get a pass on the most expensive, commercial day of the year short of Christmas.

When I pause and consider all those things that are so easily overlooked…how much that people take for granted, I understand why they need a day to say “I love you”. Love, unless nurtured, appreciated and fed, fizzles out. Will one day a year ignite the same feeling you beheld when you realized you were in love? In my opinion, it won’t. As I type this, I’m reflecting on all the lovely, simple things that my spouse does…day in and day out.

Like…

Watching the same movie over and over with me until I get it out of my system…without complaint.

Getting up before the alarm goes off in the morning, and making me a beverage that I can enjoy before my feet touch the floor.

Leaving little love notes hither and yon, so I might discover them when I really need to.

Bringing me cold packs when I’ve used up every single one in the blessed hospital…for that matter, answering my damn text at 3:00 in the morning, when he should be sleeping.

All the times he held me while I grieved over the loss of a friend or family member, four legged or otherwise.

The cup of tea to settle my stomach before or after a seizure, and the regulation two advil if requested.

Being reasonable when I can’t.

Holding my hand at the birth of our child and better…holding my hand while I slept in the birthing tub, and not letting go when I rose out of the tub like a vampire from it’s coffin, hollering “I’ve gotta PUSH!”.

For always kissing me goodnight.

Talking me through my fears, over and over again.

Supporting me through my spirituality, even if he doesn’t believe. More to the point, if he doesn’t believe…he never ever shows it.

For checking my blog posts to ensure I’m not looking like a total boob.

Putting up with my tantrums when all the electronics in the house have decided to rise up and stage a mutiny against me.

Telling me I’m beautiful, and helping me see it…even at my worst.

Humouring me when another stray shows up on our porch and welcoming them into our home.

For holding my hand as we fall asleep, every night.

These are just a few of the things that my husband does that tell me he loves me, without benefit of the yearly reminder of Valentines Day. I’m pretty damn grateful that I don’t need to rely on a Hallmark Holiday to know, from the top of my head to the tips of my hideously coloured toenails, that I am loved.

I wish that every person was as blessed as I am…I love you, Spouse…every day, not just on February 14…and I hope you know that.